Lost
by LadyBush
Summary: A collection of 100-word SLASH drabbles for a few different pairings.
1. Silence

Disclaimer: Oh, how I wish I could own Clive Owen! And Mads Mikkelsen for that matter...

Summary: a collection of exactly 100-word drabbles for various slash pairings from the movie King Arthur. More will follow.

**Fire And Ice**- Tristan/Galahad 

Tristan is cold, like snow and ice, like a crisp winter's morning, like flagstones under bare feet. He doesn't have a best friend and he avoids women.

In Galahad's first battle, an arrow is lodged deep in his thigh. Tristan removes it, carefully, with his sharp knife and his icy hands.

Later, when Galahad burns with fever, Tristan climbs into his bed and presses his cold naked skin against searing flesh. After a while, Galahad's hazy vision clears, his world slips back into focus, the sweat cools on his forehead.

"You're so cold," he whispers and doesn't get a reply.

**Green Eyes**- Arthur/Lancelot

The first thing Lancelot ever noticed was the colour of Arthur's eyes. They were green like his home: green like grassy plains stretching past the horizon; green like rolling hills; green like the first shoots of spring, tentatively clawing their way from the frozen earth.

Green is the colour of life, Lancelot realised in the half-second before he fell in love.

Ten years later, he meets Arthur in a clearing in the woods, lit by the faint silver light of a sliver of a moon. They stare at one another. Arthur's pupils are big and black.

Without words, they kiss.

**Silent As Tonight**- Tristan/Dagonet

Theirs was a silent courtship. Neither was inclined to speak- and after all, why give voice to feelings that show, as plain as daylight, in every smouldering look?

It's been said that an image is worth a thousand words and every one of Tristan's glances screamed its message.

_I want you. I need you. _

_Tonight._

And Dagonet would give a half smile, a secret smile, in return. _I'll be there. I'll always be there for you._

No one else looked hard enough to see it- a fleeting touch of hands, a tender squeeze of the shoulder... a romance without words.


	2. Night

Thank you mssparrington, gryphon55, Hugo's HaremGirl No. 1, Surreal13 and God.

The second drabble is dedicated to gryphon55 who requested something sensual for Lancelot and Tristan.

**Lightning**- Lancelot/Gawain 

A crack of thunder and a jagged flash of electric. The wind whistles. The door opens and Lancelot steps in from the night.

"Devil's rain," he says, with a flash of trademark grin. His curls are wet, plastered to his forehead and his eyes are dangerously dark.

Gawain's lost from the first moment.

"What were you doing outside?" he asks. He tries to sound noncommittal. His words ring false.

"She didn't show."

"Her father must have found out."

"Aye."

Something's there: a spark like the lightning outside, crackling in the air between them. Gawain burns with desire. Lancelot says goodnight.

**Desire- **Lancelot/Tristan

Lancelot stands in the doorway.

He stares at Tristan- at the man with dark emeralds glittering under lidded eyes and nimble hands, glistening with oil, caressing the curved blade of the sword.

Lancelot swallows. "You're up late, Tristan."

Tristan abandons his sword. He moves towards Lancelot, who is rooted to the spot, transfixed by Tristan's oil-covered hands.

"Open your shirt," Tristan instructs.

He stares at the expanse of skin before him, then runs his hands across Lancelot's chest, leaving shining patters behind.

Lancelot sighs as slippery hands force his chin upwards and Tristan carefully – almost reverently – kisses his exposed throat.


	3. Somehow Fierce

Thank you all who reviewed:perberaidien, Hugo's Whore, iMaxed, God and Surreal13.

The first drabble is for Surreal13, who likes the idea of Arthur/Tristan.

**Predator**- Arthur/Tristan

Tristan moves like a cat. Sleek, quick, silent. Predatory. Every movement whispering fluid grace.

And Tristan is unpredictable.

It's a cold day, a grey day, an ordinary day, when Tristan slams Arthur up against a wall and forces a hungry kiss on him.

His Commander is unmanned, caught off his guard, begging for mercy, and yet terrified of receiving it. His body is too pliant beneath Tristan's hands, his breathing is too hitched, his moans are too needy.

Then Tristan steps back to survey his handiwork: Arthur against the wall, panting, wanton; bruised lips and red cheeks.

Tristan is pleased.

**Unrequited- **Gawain/Galahad, Lancelot/Gawain

"I can't tell him," says Gawain.

"Can't you?" Lancelot asks. "Why not?"

"He'd hate me."

"Would he?"

"That's typical of you," Gawain snorts. "Always talking in questions and never in answers."

Lancelot forces himself to grin, even as his heart is breaking. "Do I?"

"Ugh." Gawain storms off, hoping for a fight, his long golden hair trailing behind and his eyes blazing; his body pulsing with anger.

"Galahad's a fool," Lancelot says to himself - under his breath - with a touch of wistfulness in his voice. "If only…" Lancelot's voice trails off.

Since when was he in love with Gawain anyway?


End file.
